When you glance left or right and first realise their absence from the Alfaholics Giulia Super R, you immediately feel a little bereft. Naked, even. You’ve dived into the hotel pool and surfaced, only to see those fancy, flamingo-pattern trunks (that you convinced yourself would be fine in a size larger if you did the drawstring up tightly) floating just out of reach next to an inflatable unicorn.
But very quickly you realise that it doesn’t matter (not the swimming situation – that’s enough to see you banned from the Balearics or Bognor). A lack of door mirrors on a 50-year-old Alfa Giulia is simply not a problem. The almost unbroken, 360-degree view out is a revelation if you’ve been driving anything modern. You feel unencumbered, like an owl that’s just removed a helmet and HANS device. Sure, spindly pillars might not instil a sense of security, but the visibility is breathtaking.
The lack of a radio couldn’t matter less either. Even moseying down the motorway with minimal variations in speed, tiny inputs to the steering and little to look at besides the lanes of other traffic, this Alfa is somehow enough entertainment on its own. The subtle sounds and various vibrations emanating from a machine at work as you go with the flow are beguiling.
